The Custom Officers Wanted To Confiscate The Great Bundles Of
Mexican Cigarettes They Found In My Trunk, But "No," I Told
Them, "They Were For My Own Use.
"They raised their eyebrows,
gave me one look, and put them back into the trunk.
My beloved California relatives met us, and took care of us for a
fortnight, and when I entered a Pullman car for a nine days'
journey to my old home, it seemed like the most luxurious
comfort, although I had a fourteen-months-old child in my arms,
and no nurse. So does everything in this life go by comparison.
Arriving in Boston, my sister Harriet met me at the train, and as
she took little Harry from my arms she cried: "Where did you get
that sunbonnet? Now the baby can't wear that in Boston!"
Of course we were both thinking hard of all that had happened to
me since we parted, on the morning after my wedding, two years
before, and we were so overcome with the joy of meeting, that if
it had not been for the baby's white sunbonnet, I do not know
what kind of a scene we might have made. That saved the
situation, and after a few days of rest and necessary shopping,
we started for our old home in Nantucket. Such a welcome as the
baby and I had from my mother and father and all old friends!
But I saw sadness in their faces, and I heard it in their voices,
for no one thought I could possibly live. I felt, however, sure
it was not too late. I knew the East wind's tonic would not fail
me, its own child.
Stories of our experiences and misfortunes were eagerly listened
to, by the family, and betwixt sighs and laughter they declared
they were going to fill some boxes which should contain
everything necessary for comfort in those distant places. So one
room in our old house was set apart for this; great boxes were
brought, and day by day various articles, useful, ornamental, and
comfortable, and precious heirlooms of silver and glass, were
packed away in them. It was the year of 1876, the year of the
great Centennial, at Philadelphia. Everybody went, but it had no
attractions for me. I was happy enough, enjoying the
health-giving air and the comforts of an Eastern home. I wondered
that I had ever complained about anything there, or wished to
leave that blissful spot.
The poorest person in that place by the sea had more to be
thankful for, in my opinion, than the richest people in Arizona.
I felt as if I must cry it out from the house-tops. My heart was
thankful every minute of the day and night, for every breath of
soft air that I breathed, for every bit of fresh fish that I ate,
for fresh vegetables, and for butter - for gardens, for trees, for
flowers, for the good firm earth beneath my feet.
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